


Afternoon light

by Splinter



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Comfort Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Furiosa is the most eaten out character in fandom history, Nightmares, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Movie(s), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6518452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splinter/pseuds/Splinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a terrible night. They both need to catch up on sleep, and on comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon light

It's Capable who orders them back to bed. It’s been a terrible night. Max and Furiosa have both woken from nightmares, over and over again, setting each other off. When Capable sees them in the dining hall, picking at breakfast, she’s imperious: “Bed. Now,” she says, pointing at a bleary-eyed Furiosa. Before Furiosa can reply, she says: “You know there’s nothing urgent in the machine shop, and the next trade run won’t be for six days.” She rounds on Max. “And you, make sure she stays there.” Her stern look softens a little when she realises he’s as bad: eyes scrunched, huddled into his jacket. Furiosa huffs, and Max looks apologetic, but Capable’s right, so they do as she says.

They peel off clothes and crawl under the blankets. Max wonders if they’re in for more disturbed sleep, but they’re both out cold within minutes. When one gets up to use the sandbucket, the other barely stirs. Judging by the light, it’s well past noon when Max finally wakes properly. Furiosa is drinking a cup of water, standing naked by her desk.

She’s comfortable in her skin, much more at ease with nudity than he is. Whatever had happened before, once she made imperator she had a room with rock walls and a door she could bar. After years in the open desert, Max has been more reluctant to inch out of his clothes. The sense of dangerous exposure isn’t helped by the ugly tattoo on his back, proclaiming his value as a commodity. It’s taken him a while to accept her seeing it, to know that she knows his genitals are intact and his piss is OK. 

(It got easier when he realised how much she likes his body. He’ll catch her looking at him, her eyes warm, as they work in the garage. They’re not demonstrative, in public, but more than once he’s straightened up from an engine to find her staring. He’s at least as likely to blush about it as she is.)

She comes back to the bed when she hears him moving. He sits up in a tangle of sheet and blanket and puts his arms around her, his face against her midriff. He nuzzles against her, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just below her navel, his cock stirring. She giggles when he ducks his head to nose at her pubic hair.

The angle’s awkward, so he kisses his way back up her belly, stroking her sides. He rests his chin against the firm muscle of her abdomen, looking up at her. His hands are on her scars: where she’d been stabbed on one side, where he’d stabbed her on the other. He holds on tight, feeling her alive and warm and whole, her ribs expanding as she breathes clear and easy.

They’re used to each other’s nightmares. He hasn’t told her how many of his are about her. In his sleep, he’s watched her bleeding out in the gigahorse, waxen and pale with wet, rattling breath, dying under his hands. He’s woken up to feel her warm and soft beside him, and it’s been all he can do not to wake her by pulling her closer. 

Furiosa has lost the washed-out look of bad sleep, her eyes very green. He strokes one hand up to her sternum, feeling her heartbeat under his fingers. She bends to kiss him, warm and urgent, her hand on his neck and her mouth opening against his. She climbs into his lap, pushing insistently against him.

She’s sure and eager, a world away from the brittle exhaustion of last night. His hand slides to her buttock, she squirms against him, and suddenly they’re both breathless and laughing. When he tips her onto the bed, she rolls down readily, landing with a puff of breath and tugging at him until he’s sprawled over her.

She leans up to keep kissing him, her nub hooked around his neck. Max melts into it, propped on his elbows and held by her thighs, her mouth hungry on his. His cock hardens as she shifts under him, her hand roaming and stroking. When he breaks away, she makes a disconsolate noise. He kisses her again. 

“Want to lick you,” he says, lips murmuring over her jaw. “Want to, mmm –” working down, nipping at her neck – “feel you against my mouth.” She gives a little shiver at that, loosening the grip of her arms. He wants to make her come, to feel her body respond to him.

He settles himself comfortably between her legs, stroking her thighs and reaching up to hook one of her knees over his shoulder. He eases his way up to her crotch, humming to himself as he parts her lips and starts to lick. She’s satisfyingly wet, already twitching as he teases his way over her, swiping up one side and zigzagging down the other. He leaves her clit alone for the moment, working around it until she gets impatient and prods him with her foot. 

He nudges in to suck at her, losing himself in the contrast of firm muscle, delicate folds and soft, wet skin. She bucks and shivers when she comes, shuddering against his mouth. Gripping her hip, he keeps going until she’s moaning, until she tugs his hair to let him know she needs a break. 

She grabs him when he slides back up to kiss her. She’s strong and solid under him, wrapping her arms around his chest to pull him where she wants him. He slides into her, gently rocking his hips as they both adjust. When she squeezes down, he swallows hard and kisses her again.

He wants to stretch this out, to thrust slow and lazy until they’re both whimpering. Her breath is warm on his cheek, her heart thumping under him. After a while, she slips her hand down between them to stroke at her clit. When he starts to speed up, she swings her legs up to grip high around his waist. He groans at the change of angle, the way she clenches around him. 

“Harder now,” she says, squeezing again. They both gasp when he starts to thrust deeper and faster. He can feel her trembling as his hips snap against her, her nub hooked tight around his ribs. “Harder,” she says again, breathless but insistent. She comes as he fucks into her, moaning high and loud. She kisses his throat, sucking at his pulse, and Max gets the rush that means he’s about to come. She’s wrapped tight around him, arms and mouth and muscles all gripping him as he lets go.

He lies panting for a moment, forearms braced under her. He kisses her face, soft brushes on nose and cheek and chin, chasing her dimples when she smiles. Then he realises he’s resting a lot of his weight on her, and rolls off onto his back. She starts to settle against him, but stops, scrambling up and over him to his left side. Max grunts in surprise. 

Furiosa drops a kiss to his shoulder, curling up in almost exactly the same position on the other side. Usually, if she changes position, it’s to place herself with her right arm outwards. He hums a question, stroking her back. “Heartbeat,” she says, mumbling into his ribs. “I want to feel you, too.” Max’s hand stops mid-stroke. He lifts her onto his chest, tucking her against him. “’m here,” he says, arms tight around her.

**Author's Note:**

> They're both standalone fics, but [Uncovered](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6584203) is a kind of prologue to this one.
> 
> I'm at [lurkinghistoric](http://lurkinghistoric.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


End file.
